Wish Upon A Popstar
by Kristinexists
Summary: Famous AU. It's the Summer of 2006. Jean is a amature actor with little to lose. Marco is a famous R&B popstar. When their worlds collide at one of the most exclusive nightclubs in LA, their lives are sure to change, as well as the lives of those close to them. But will it be for the better? Or will their hopes and dreams be thrown into disarray, along with their summer romance?


**Okay, so this is an AU I've wanted to do for quite some time, now. I'm absolutely fascinated by early and mid-2000's culture and music, mostly because of how cheesy it is/was. I love it to bits, probably more than 90's culture.**

**A massive thank you goes out to my friend Emery for putting up with me, helping me with ideas for this story, and supporting my writing every step of the way.**

**I don't own any of the songs mentioned in this chapter, with the exceptions of Marco's "Drunk on Tonight" and Krista's "The Rain". I do own those, and would appreciate being asked permission before the lyrics to those songs are used.**

**(Re-posted because this website is dumb and I fucked up and deleted it while trying to update)**

* * *

Jean Kirstein wasn't exactly what one would call a master of patience. Because of this, it shouldn't be surprising that, when waiting, he tended to pace about, sighing loudly, drawing attention to himself, as his 300 dollar Nike Zooms squeaked softly against the tiled floor. It was a Thursday afternoon, so Americana wasn't nearly as packed as it could have been. Franz had called Jean near midnight to ask him to meet him at the mall at exactly one o'clock the next day. It was now one-twenty. Franz had always had the bad habit of being late for absolutely everything, but whatever he had wanted from Jean, he had made sound incredibly important, and so, Jean's curiosity had won out in the end, provoking the twenty-four year old to wait for his friend, despite his irritation.

At long last, and nearly a half-hour late, Jean spotted a tall, tan figure in a green, cotton-denim jacket. Jean flagged him down, as he strode into the mall, "You're thirty minutes late, Asshat," he greeted, tiredly.

"Sorry, man, but traffic was crazy," replied Franz, leading Jean away from the door and into the throng of shoppers.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," said Jean, not feeling up to arguing with his friend over his typical excuses, "What are we even here for?"

"I got that role for Kia," Franz smiled.

"A car commercial. Tight gig, there, buddy," said Jean, sarcastically. Commercials were the bane of every struggling actor's existence.

Both Jean and Franz were actors, if you could really call them that. More like struggling newbies trying to get whatever job would pay for their outrageous rent costs. For the most part, so far the both of them could really only mange to get cast in commercials, and Franz had been far more successful in that department. This was probably because Jean was far too disagreeable for most people to even bother to see his talent. He wasn't exactly living the dream, but he was surviving, even if it was just barely.

"I don't know why you stick with your shitty agent," Franz vocalized, "I mean what are you even paying him for? He's gotten you, like, what? Two jobs in the past five months?"

Jean groaned, "Don't remind me." The truth was that Jean would be keeping his agent around until he was completely broke. He'd probably become homeless before firing him. Levi, _the_ Levi of the Trost Talent Agency, former member of the world-famous boy band, Wings, had taken a chance on Jean, after he'd decided to stop by the set of "Bluebook", a B-list Summer film Jean had been cast in as a bit part around a year ago. He only had about ten lines in the film, and it had thus far been the only "real" acting job he had ever had. However, the talent agency's top guy had really been impressed with Jean, enough to offer his services, even. It was such a big deal, and Jean still couldn't believe who he had representing him, even if it hadn't exactly yielded as many opportunities as Jean had originally expected. The real issue with having Levi as an agent was that he had decided to take Jean's co-star, Eren Jaeger, under his wing as well, advising both of them to try out for all of the same parts. Between the two, Eren had definitely beat Jean out when it came to getting the coveted small roles Jean really needed to break into the business. Eren was a natural, putting all of his energy into emoting absolutely perfectly. It helped that most people fell for his boyish features and piercing, caribbean eyes upon first glance. Jean wasn't unattractive, but his longish face and lankier build didn't seem to be what most casting directors were looking for.

"You really should just go back to managing yourself," Franz added, "I am, and I'm doing better than ever."

"You're in a Kia commercial, Franz," Jean rolled his eyes, popping the collar of his shirt a bit.

"Yeah, but they're giving me the biggest paycheck of my career," said Franz. Jean laughed at him.

"Yeah, livin' the dream," he mocked.

"I'm making bank, what are you doing?" argued Franz, as they continued to walk.

"Did you ask me to come here just to bitch at me about work?" snapped Jean, stopping near a bench.

"Don't be so chapped, kay?" laughed Franz, "Actually I asked you to meet me because I need help picking out a ring."

Jean cocked an eyebrow in confusion, "A ring? Dude, I know we're tight, and I'm gay as fuck, but that doesn't mean we're going to elope or anything."

Franz gave Jean an unamused look.

"…You're proposing to Hannah, aren't you?"

"Duh, dude," Franz could only hold his dumb stare for another moment, before breaking out in an excited smile.

Jean wasn't surprised in the least. Franz and Jean had met Hannah four years prior, when the two friends had decided to take some acting classes together. Franz had been smitten right away, and after only knowing one another for about two months, they had begun a secret relationship. Well, they had _tried_ to keep it a secret. However, just about everyone saw through their charade within the week. For actors, the "totally not dating" act didn't go over very well. The two had been the overly-affectionate, attached at the hip couple that Jean had grown to know, and to some degree, love, ever since.

"About fuckin' time," replied Jean, happy for his friend, "Congratulations."

"Well she hasn't said yes yet," replied Franz.

"She will," Jean said, bluntly.

Franz and Jean again joined the flow of bodies, before finding the jeweler that Franz had wanted to talk to. They spent upwards of forty minutes in the jewelry store. Jean tried his very best to be interested in the whole endeavor, but he had found himself incredibly bored after the first ten minutes. It wasn't that Jean didn't care. Franz and Hannah were his best friends, and he did support them one-hundred percent. However, relationships had always seemed really mundane to Jean. Sure, there was the rush, the chemicals in your brain, but when it came down to it, the exciting relationships in stories and films were either unrealistic or unhealthy. Normal, loving relationships, like the one Franz and Hannah held so dearly didn't interest Jean in the least. He hadn't actually even attempted to date anyone since high school. Sex didn't have to come with committing to a boring individual he'd have to dedicate too much time to. It wasn't that Jean didn't believe in the principle of love, he just didn't find anyone exciting or interesting enough to spend the rest of his life with.

Once Franz had finally picked out the ring he was going to propose with, and paid the first installment on it, the two made their way out of the store, and back through the mall, chatting idly.

"_Keep looking at me like that_

_With those enticing eyes of yours_

_Keep moving in close like that_

_With that perfect body of yours_

_I don't know if it's the music the DJ's got spinnin'_

_Or if it's the way my anatomy reacts to yours_

_But girl, you sure got me thinkin'_

_You could make me a happy man tonight"_

Jean noticed the song playing over the mall speakers, "Drunk on Tonight". It had been on every top 40 station for the past three weeks, sure to climb at least to the top ten by the end of Summer.

"I swear they play this song on repeat," grumbled Jean.

"Yeah, but you've gotta admit, it's pretty smooth and catchy," Franz smiled.

"All of Marco Bodt's stuff is smooth and catchy," remarked Jean, "That doesn't make it good or well-written. Especially not well-written."

"Jean, you own both of his albums," teased Franz, nudging his friend.

"Yeah, and I have the third on pre-order," smiled Jean, only feeling slightly embarrassed. "You've got to admit, that voice is like a chorus of weeping violins, all on its own."

The sun beat down on the two wannabe actors, relentlessly, as they exited the mall. May was in full swing, and the threat of summer weather loomed ahead. Suddenly:

"_Lalala lalala la la lala la Ohhh! (You know... I've never felt like this before) Lalala lalala la la lala la Ohhh_!"

"Why is that your ringtone?" Groaned Franz as the pop tune blasted from Jean's phone.

"Uh, _S.O.S._? It's Levi's ringtone, obviously," said Jean, pulling out his LG Chocolate.

"If you'd fire him, you wouldn't need the distress signal," remarked Franz. Jean ignored him, answering Levi's call.

"Yep!" he said, letting his agent know he had picked up.

"Kirstein, where are you right now?" came Levi's stern, deep voice on the other end.

"I'm just leaving Americana," he responded, "Why?"

"Good. There's an audition for a couple of roles in new Connie Springer comedy a couple of blocks away that I've gotten you into, I'll text you the address."

Internally, Jean groaned. Any movie Connie Springer was staring in was sure to make decent money, but it would be corny and raunchy as all hell. Not exactly the kind of film he wanted to be in if he wanted to be seen as a serious actor.

"Fantastic," said Jean, trying not to sound ungrateful, "I'll head over right away."

"I'd expect so," said Levi, "I'll let you know when they call me with the results."

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Jean said. Levi hung up on him.

"What did he want?" asked Franz, who was still standing beside Jean.

"I've got an audition for a part in a Connie Springer movie, like, right now," Jean replied.

"That's great," Franz said, "But he didn't exactly give you much notice."

"Yeah, no kidding," growled Jean, "I don't even have time to prepare a monologue. I don't even know what I'm auditioning for!"

"I'm telling you, fire the loser, Jean," Franz joked.

"Fuck off and go get engaged!" snapped Jean, good-humoredly.

"I plan on it," smirked Franz, starting to his car, "Good luck! And thanks!"

"Any time, man," Jean called half-heartedly, waving to his friend.

Finding his way to his 1998 Jeep Cherokee, Jean fumbled to start the vehicle, checking his texts to find the address that Levi had sent him. It looked like the film company had rented out a small warehouse a few blocks north. It was really convenient that the place had been so close, Jean noted. They had already begun the auditions by the time he got there, and he wondered what Levi would have told him, had he been on the other side of the city.

It turned out that the parts open to audition were a little league coach for the team the character of Springer's daughter would be on, and the neighbor's teenage son. The scripts were already provided, and it turned out that Jean had a good twenty-five minutes to prepare a monologue based on it. He let out a sigh of relief. He shouldn't have been so surprised, in all honesty. Levi knew what he was doing.

Jean had settled on trying for the part of the teenager, as he definitely looked closer to seventeen than forty-five. He had been halfway through the character's lines, when he heard a familiar voice.

"Jean!"

"Jaeger," Jean griped, head lifting from the script pages to see Eren standing before him, script in hand.

"We meet yet again!" Eren said in a joke villainous voice.

"Cut the shit, Eren," said Jean, "we both know that us both being here only means more competition."

Eren nodded, eyes becoming serious, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I have to have the same attitude as you about it."

Jean sighed, "Yeah, whatever. Just stay out of my way." He hated Eren's do-gooding personality so much.

Eren shrugged, settling down to skim through the script, right beside Jean, much to his annoyance.

"You got highlights," commented Eren after a few moments of strained silence. "They look ridiculous. Like, popstar from five years ago ridiculous."

Jean ran a hand through his messy mop of brown hair. He had gotten highlights bleached in about a week before. He had thought they looked cool. The guy who had cut and dyed it had thought so. Then again, most of the time flirting was all about the tips when it came to his regular salon.

"Shut-up, Asshat," Jean hissed, scooting farther from his former co-star.

"Maybe you should dye it all black. Become a goth. It would suit your mood better."

Jean was about to retort, when he heard his name being called to step in for the next audition. It didn't even matter anymore. Eren had totally thrown him off his game. He got up, regardless, determined to do his best. He really needed the cash.

The room that the casting directors sat in was small, and a tiny X sat a handful of feet away from them. Without nerves, Jean walked over to stand on it. "My name is Jean Kirstein, and I'm auditioning for the role of Donny Cappelletti."

The casting directors motioned for him to begin with his monologue, so he shot straight into it, performing a section of the script in which Donny had been mistaken for hitting on Springer's character's wife. The casting directors seemed fairly impressed, and even asked him to do some improve with one of the other bit-part actors who had already been cast. Jean left the casting room feeling quite confident, actually. The directors told him that they'd be letting Levi know at some point during the next few days if he had been casted.

Eren's audition happened to be directly after Jean's, and he had decided to wait for him, overly curious about how his rival would fair, considering how well Jean figured he had done. Much to his annoyance, Eren came out looking just about as happy as Jean had.

"You waited for me?" Eren asked, making his way over to Jean, as he sulked just ever so slightly.

"I wanted to see the look of defeat on your face," Jean growled.

"No defeat here," smirked Eren. Jean turned to leave. "Jean, wait!" Eren called.

"What is it, Eren?" he asked, turning around, forcibly.

"Jean, why do you have to be so pissy all of the time? We've worked together, we want the same things. Couldn't we, you know, be friends, or whatever? Chill together or something?"

Jean sighed. He knew he was being difficult. Eren teased him plenty, but it had been a long time since he had been purposely malicious. Sharing an agent would definitely go way smoother if they could at least be civil to one another. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, reluctantly.

Eren perked up quite a bit, "Well, actually, I was considering going to Sina tonight, and I could really use a wingman."

So that had been his game. "How the hell are _you_ gonna get into Sina?" Jean asked. Sina was a one of the hottest new nightclubs in LA. It had opened only a month prior, and word was that it was a common hangout for quite a few celebrities, such as Hitch, or Annie Leonhart, or even the gorgeous popstar with his favorite voice, Marco Bodt. The guest list was incredibly exclusive, and everyone knew it.

"I have my connections," said Eren, teasingly.

Jean gave him a half-lidded look of disbelief "Connections?"

"Fine, Mikasa is the new bouncer, that's my connection."

Jean stuttered, taken aback, "_Your sister_ is the bouncer?"

"Yeah, she and this guy named Reiner Braun are the main bouncers during weeknights. He's pretty cool, too," said Eren, casually. "So, you in, or what?"

"Uh, _yeah_, I'm in," said Jean, shaking his head in astonishment.

"Great!" smiled Eren, "I'll meet you outside at, like, 11:30, yeah?"

"Yeah," agreed Jean. He couldn't believe it. He was going to one of the most exclusive nightclubs in LA with Eren Jaeger. He almost pinched himself to see if he was dreaming.

"Aiight, I'm gonna bounce, but you'd better be there, Kirstein!" Eren called, heading out the door and waving.

Jean found himself rushing to his jeep, eager to get home and find some sort of proper outfit. The ruffled dress shirt and torn thrift shop jeans didn't really seem like appropriate club attire. He turned on his radio, flipping through the stations as he drove, before one of the songs caught his attention.

_"In my head, the song of shame_

_Where, with fire and ice, it always rains_

_Anger is written all over my face_

_And in my heart, bitterness remains"_

Jean smiled softly, as he hummed along to the sad, yet passion filled voice of Krista Lenz. The song was a couple years old, but it still held up in Jean's opinion. The pop princess was one of the few artists that frequented the top of the charts who was known to write her own songs most of the time. The particular song that was playing, The Rain, happened to be one of Jean's very favorites.

_"I'm not alone, yet the only one standing_

_I'm fighting hard, because no one is fighting_

_I lose most of the time; my efforts are little more than useless_

_But this kind of combat isn't meant for the stressless"_

Jean let his voice louden and deepen with Krista's as he began to sing along with the chorus:

_"_ _I figured, after all of this time, that I would be stronger_

_That I could no longer call your story mine_

_But something still feels like it's dying_

_Even though I know we've run out of time_

_I wonder where I'm going, and if it's as painful and beautiful as tonight_

_For now, the world is so blank and so dull, all of the color I splash on the canvas returns to white_

_Returns to white_

_Returns to white"_

Singing along with Krista's voice only made Jean more excited for that night. She was supposedly a frequent attendee of Sina. What if he met her in person?

_"I want to walk away from what I know_

_Though I wish I was taking you with me_

_You've tossed me aside for long enough, though_

_And I've taken back the key_

_You don't realize all of the life you waste_

_With your broken parts and thoughts_

_No tool or philosophy in this world can save you_

_You're rotting away from the inside; giving up on the war we fought"_

Jean's nerves slowly began to creep on him, though. Besides Levi, he'd never really had a lot of contact with anyone famous before. Sure, he could have a really cool time with Eren around a mass of the rich and famous, but he could also fuck up and disgrace himself, as well.

_"I figured, after all of this time, that I would be stronger_

_That I could no longer call your story mine_

_But something still feels like it's dying_

_Even though I know we've run out of time_

_I wonder where I'm going, and if it's as painful and beautiful as tonight_

_For now, the world is so blank and so dull, all of the color I splash on the canvas returns to white_

_Returns to white_

_Returns to white"_

His voice began to quiver, just a bit, as the song hit its last few lines.

_"I don't know what I'm doing anymore_

_I make so very many mistakes_

_It doesn't ever stop or go away_

_With fire and ice, it always rains"_

It would be fine, though, right? He wouldn't be going there specifically to meet celebrities or anything. He was going because it was practically a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and Eren had used the experience as a peace offering. It would be fun for the sake of fun. Maybe he'd get laid. At least he'd be able to get out and drink and dance for the first time in a long while.

Jean did his best to calm himself, as he pulled into the small parking lot of his building. He locked up his jeep, before bounding up the stairs to his mediocre apartment. He had some time to kill before he had to be at Sina, so he decided to root through his closet, prepare an early dinner, and take a nap to make up for the lack of sleep he would end up experiencing.

Once ten rolled around, Jean awoke to his phone beeping. He rolled over and snatched his phone from the bedside table. It was a text from Franz. Jean smiled, knowing what it would say.

**From: Franz Chandler**

**SHE SAID YES!**

Jean shook his head, amused, before sliding out the number pad on his LG.

**To: Franz Chandler**

**Knew she would**

Jean sat up, sliding out of bed to go to his dresser, where he had laid out his getup for the night. He had chosen a simple pair of black dress shoes, black slacks, and a deep purple dress shirt. He had decided against a blazer; the ones he owned either were too dark or looked too 90's for Jean's taste. He heard his phone go off again, as he got himself dressed.

**From: Franz Chandler**

**I already asked my bro to b the best man at the wed I want u 2 stand up in it tho**

Jean shot back a text

**To: Franz Chandler**

**Duh wouldnt miss it 4 the world**

Jean, despite not saying it, was beyond touched that Franz cared enough about him to want him as part of his wedding party. He and Franz had been friends since high school, but that didn't really stop Jean from being a dick to him a decent portion of the time. He really did need to start being nicer to his friends. Maybe trying to patch things up with Eren at Sina would be the start of that.

Finding his keys on the counter and pocketing his phone and his wallet, Jean headed outside. His phone beeped again.

**From: Franz Chandler**

**Wat r u up to?**

**To: Franz Chandler**

**Jaeger is dragging me to sina**

**From: Franz Chandler**

**SINA?**

**To: Franz Chandler**

**Yeah mikasa is the bouncer there apparently**

**From: Franz Chandler**

**Like for real**

**From: Franz Chandler**

**Eren Jaeger invited u? **

**To: Franz Chandler**

**wanted a wingman he said**

**From: Franz Chandler**

**Tht makes more sense u hav to tell me everything**

**To: Franz Chandler**

**Yeah i will bt I g2g ttyl**

With that, Jean once again slipped his phone into the pocket of his trousers, and got into his jeep to meet Eren and have what he was sure would be one of the biggest adventures of his life.

Jean didn't listen to any music on the drive to the club, knowing that his head would be filled with raunchy pop tunes by the end of the night. He parked about a block from Sina, making sure to soak in the atmosphere as he walked along the semi-crowded street. He was about to be admitted to one of the most private nightclubs in the city. His stomach twisted with excitement.

He finally approached the lit-up nightclub, which was absolutely pulsing with the music inside. The exterior was a gravely, cream-color, and a simple pink neon sign designed to look like a woman's head on a shield stood tall above the doors. Unsurprisingly, the line was incredibly long, and person after person was being turned away by a ripped blond man in a tight, black t-shirt, and a stern-looking woman with long, black hair. Jean glanced around, until he spotted a ruffled-looking twenty-four year old in white jeans and a dark grey blazer. He waved him down, wading through the line to reach Eren, despite the protests.

"There you are," Eren said, "I was wondering if you'd actually show up."

"Of course I showed up," replied Jean, "I said I would, didn't I?"

"I just wasn't sure if you actually believed me when I said I could get us in here," Eren said.

"I don't," laughed Jean, nervously.

"I can definitely get us in here, Mikasa and Reiner are expecting us," Eren replied, as the two moved forward.

After only half an hour had passed, they were already at the front of the line. Reiner and Mikasa worked quickly and efficiently, it seemed. Jean waved to Mikasa, who only nodded in response.

"Alright, there, Eren?" asked Reiner, going to unhook the ropes to let them in. They were, _actually _going to enter Sina. Jean's head began to spin with nervous thought, as he tried to keep his head up and look as cool as possible. Mikasa got the door for them, after reminding Eren repeatedly to stay safe.

The inside of the club was far raunchier than Jean had expected, not that he entirely minded. It was a little past midnight, and the place was just beginning to fill. Jean looked around, spotting the DJ, perched on a high platform, scrolling through a laptop, grinning excitedly. It looked like there wouldn't be any live entertainment that night. Jean was okay with that, figuring that having celebrities attend another popstar's performance might be strange, when they had come to relax. Speaking of which, Jean could already spot a tall figure in a tight suit jacket dancing beside a short, blond woman. It was none other than the model and reality star, Berthold Fubar, and actress Annie Leonhart. Jean's eyes grew wide, spotting the two. He had no intention of going over to say hi, not just because of his nerves, but because he figured that the point of attending such an exclusive nightclub would be to avoid gawking, bothersome fans.

"Told you," shouted Eren, above the music, as he nudged Jean with his shoulder.

"Yeah," was all Jean could respond with, still starstruck.

"I dunno about you, but _I'm _gonna go dance," Eren said after a few moments of standing around, taking in the colorfully lit atmosphere, and headed for the dancefloor. Sweating a bit, Jean followed him.

Jean certainly liked to dance. He wasn't one of the stoic, quiet guys who would go somewhere, only to lean against a wall and drink in silence. However, he didn't like to dance alone. Dancing alone was what losers did at much cheaper clubs on Friday nights when they were desperate for a lay. And so, Jean had no other choice than to dance beside Eren, trying to make sure the situation didn't look awkward, and still seem available for someone else to cut in at any time. The two didn't do much besides fast-paced swaying, moving their arms now and then. At least it didn't look completely terrible.

Whatever Jean and Eren were doing, it must have worked though, because by the end of the song, a short, brunette girl in a tight green top and a white skirt, who looked to be a few years younger than the two of them, and her much taller, ginger friend had joined them, the brunette even going as far as to grind on Jean after only a minute had passed. If the girl was looking for anything other than dancing, though, she wasn't going to get it from him.

"Hey boy, hey!" her voice was slightly nasally and put Jean off, "What's your name?"

"Jean," he said, not bothering with last names. He had little intention of ever seeing this girl again.

"I'm Carla! Do you recognize me at all?" she purred putting her hands on Jean's shoulders.

"Sorry, I don't," he responded resting his hands on her waist, but still dancing rather fast paced.

"Oh," she sounded disappointed, "I do some modeling. Got a billboard just a few blocks from here, actually," she said, loudly, "You should check it out sometime."

"For sure," Jean replied, more interested in dancing than talking. Luckily Carla shut her mouth after that, in favor of rubbing up against Jean, moving her hips vigorously. He looked over to Eren, who seemed to be having a far more enjoyable time, though his dance partner was being far raunchier, leaning over to lick Eren's neck or grope him now and then.

Jean and Carla spent the next song with her ass in his crotch, as Jean swayed back and forth, arms wrapped around her shoulders. As off as some of it felt, he was starting to enjoy himself more, letting the music and the vibes the upscale nightclub let off envelop him. Then, suddenly, Carla was pulling his off of the dancefloor, and over to the bar, which was lit up with dim, blue neon lighting. Jean ordered a twenty-seven dollar beer for himself, not bothering to offer to pay for a drink for Carla. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea, and get into a situation he couldn't get out of, where he couldn't even get it up. His drink tasted terrible, like cold, watered-down horse piss. But it was really the only thing on the menu he could afford. After a few minutes, Carla ordered her own drink, a little huffily. She didn't leave though, which Jean didn't mind, and sat beside him at the bar.

"So, you never told me, Jean? What do you do?"

"Me? I'm an actor."

Carla's eyes grew wide in admiration, "Really? What movies have you been in?"

"Actually, I've only been in one film; Bluebook," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and taking another sip of his drink. "I just auditioned for The Fence, though," he added, quickly, "It looks pretty promising."

"Really! Did you meet Connie Springer? I'm a huge fan of his! He's, like, the funniest comedian eveeeer!" Carla asked, reaching over and rubbing Jean's arm, flirtily.

"No, but I'll have some one-on-one scenes with him if I get cast," Jean replied, feeling way less cool than he had a moment before. Carla didn't seem to mind, though, and the two chatted idly for about another ten minutes, before another guy came over to ask her to dance. Jean had no issue with this, and he waved goodbye to the two, quite relaxed. He was a lost cause, anyway, and it was good that she could get what she wanted from someone, at least.

"Bad move, there, Jean. Letting pretty girl like that get away? Should've bought her a drink."

Jean turned to the person who had been sitting two seats away from where Carla had previously been. It was a man in about his late twenties or early thirties. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, a black suit jacket, and a blue, pinstriped fedora. Dark hair hung in a pair of equally dark, sexy eyes, and freckles littered his face. It was Marco Bodt, in the flesh. And he was addressing Jean, directly. He had overheard the entirety of Jean and Carla's conversation, apparently.

"She's, uh…not really my type," Jean sputtered, face flushing, hardly believing the situation. Marco was so much more gorgeous in person than Jean had ever fantasized. And he had defiantly fantasized.

"Mine either," Marco smirked at him, teasingly, "Someone here might be, though." Jean could feel his hands tremble a bit, as his pulse quickened. Did Marco Bodt just make a pass at him?

Jean didn't know how to respond. He felt as if his brain was shutting down completely, as he gawked at the incredibly attractive popstar bedside him. Marco stood up, making his way closer to Jean and taking the set beside him, he held out his hand, softly laughing in endearment, "Marco Bodt. You said you're name's Jean, right?"

"Y-Yeah! Jean Kirstein," came Jean, finally, as he took Marco's hand. It was really soft, and Jean couldn't help but let his mind wander to how he'd like Marco to use it if he ever got the chance. And his voice! It was fantastic, even when he wasn't singing; just the perfect mixture of masculine and boyish.

"Well, Jean Kirstein, where you from?" Marco asked, resting his elbow on the counter, playfully.

"Denver, originally," Jean said, "I hated the place. My best friend from high school and I actually moved here, to LA, to become actors a few years back."

"Either of you any good?" Marco looked genuinely interested in Jean's mundane life, which both felt really nice and really strange at the same time. Why a celebrity of his status would care, though, was beyond Jean's comprehension.

"I'd like to think so," Jean replied, "But it's tough to break in, you know. I've got Levi Ackerman as my agent, though. Have for about a year, now. You'd think that would have its perks, but he doesn't actually give me a lot of work."

Marco's forehead wrinkled in surprise, "You've had Levi as an agent for a year, and still haven't been made into a star?" Apparently Marco knew Levi on a personal basis, judging by how casual he seemed about him.

"Is that bad?" Jean asked, nervously, as his stomach did flips. It hadn't even occurred to him, the fact that Levi had been known to make stars overnight, and yet he and Eren were still doing bit parts and commercials. Maybe he really was that bad of an actor.

"No," said Marco after a few minutes, in which he had looked like he was thinking, deeply. "My boss has been fucking up with his new clients, too, lately."

"Erwin Smith, fucking up? That hardly seems like something that happens often," Jean said, referencing the head of Survey Records. Erwin Smith had done his best to stay out of public life after Wings, the band he had been a part of, additional to Levi, had split up. He was a CEO now, which raked in way more cash and way less nosy interviewers.

"He comes to his office less frequently, too," said Marco, sadly, "I've suggested he see a therapist, but he gets all fake smiley and stuff whenever it's brought up."

"Well that sucks," Jean poorly attempted to comfort, not knowing what else to say. Marco Bodt had just met him, and yet he had just confided in him his worries about his boss. Jean had a feeling that things were going to get personal really quickly between the two of them, and didn't know whether to be excited by the prospect, or run away as quickly as possible.

Marco shrugged, laughing a bit at Jean's word usage, but not seeming to mind, and looked over to Jean's empty drink. He then called the bartender over and ordered new drinks for both of them. Marco Bodt was buying him drinks.

"You don't have to," Jean protested, but Marco shook him off.

"I want to, though," he was back to smirking at Jean, lightly touching the back of his hand. Jean took a sip of his drink, which tasted much better than the last one had, to show gratefulness.

"You seem like a really straight up, to-the-point guy, Jean," Marco said, leaning in a bit closer, "So I'm gonna be straight up with you. You're probably the most attractive guy I've seen here since Sina opened."

Jean almost spit out his drink, all over Marco's jacket. Marco Bodt had just hit on him; blatantly, this time.

Jean decided to attempt to flirt back. "Well, you're the probably the most attractive guy I've ever seen in my whole life, so-" Shit. That was not what was supposed to have come out of his mouth. Nope, nope, nope.

Marco chuckled, as Jean buried his face into his palm with embarrassment.

"I'll leave now," Jean apologized, moving to get down from his stool and join Eren.

"Oh no you don't!" smiled Marco, lightly grasping Jean's arm. Jean turned back to Marco, his eyes widening in surprise and blush deepening in color. "Dance with me?"

How could he refuse? Jean didn't know what was going to happen from one moment to the next, but Marco, Marco Bodt, with his perfect voice, and sculpted body, and millionaire status, seemed to like him a lot, embarrassing parts and all.

_"You're my shining star,  
_

_that is what you are  
_

_There is no one like you, baby"_

Marco pulled him close, automatically, as they hit the dancefloor, resting his forearms on Jean's shoulders, and moving his hips in time to the music.

_"Angels everywhere  
_

_Every time you're near  
_

_You will always be my baby"_

Jean could smell Marco's cologne, a deep, amber-inspired scent that Jean found himself incredibly attracted to.

_"Baby when you do the things you do  
_

_I wanna be close to you_

_Cause I need to feel your every move,_ _  
_

_Oh, oh" _

Jean wasted no time getting familiar with Marco movements, placing a hand on Marco's chest and swaying with him to the rhythm of the five-year old, slightly outdated song. Marco's eyes glittered, mischievously and excitedly.

_"Baby I can never say how much  
_

_I, I need your touch  
_

_I, I can't get enough_

_Cause you know what you do, turn me on oh yeah"_

Marco pressed his adorable, freckled nose to Jean's, as they danced, almost close enough for their thighs to brush, and began to sing along with the music;

_"You're my shining star,  
_

_that is what you are  
_

_There is no one like you baby  
_

_Angels everywhere  
_

_Every time you're near  
_

_You will always be my baby"_

Marco Bodt was now serenading him with a Backstreet Boys song, with his perfect voice. Jean couldn't help but giggle at his antics. He got points for creativity, at least. Jean almost took the opportunity to kiss Marco, but chickened out, not knowing how the popstar would react. Instead, he simply moved a bit closer, so that their faces were only a couple inches apart, even after Marco withdrew, and continued to dance.

"You've got better hips than half of the women in this place," Marco commented, as the song bled into the next.

Jean felt his face go pink. Luckily, he didn't figure that Marco could see it, given how dark the club was.

"You're a real charmer, there, aren't you?" Jean said, as the music changed to something a little slower, one of those "Thugs need love, too" anthems that were all the rage.

"I try," purred Marco, seductively, as he wrapped his arms around Jean waist, and pressed his forehead to Jeans, knocking his fedora back a bit. The beat of the song still would have allowed them to dance in the more-fast paced, racy way they had before, but Marco seemed to have his heart set on a slow dance. Jean complied, resting his arms on Marco's shoulders.

Jean closed his eyes, as Marco rocked him to the rhythm of the music. It was nice. The fluttering that had made its way into his stomach moments prior had quieted down, and he felt a comforting strength while in Marco's arms. Even though they had just met, Jean felt reassured by Marco's existence, adoring every move they made together.

"I'm not gonna lie, Jean, I've had my sights set on you since you walked through those doors," Marco said, gently, "I wasn't sure if you'd go for another guy, but I guess I got lucky."

Jean opened his eyes to find Marco's boring into him, intently, "You're not out, though, are you?"

"I am in my private life, what little I have," Marco replied, "But publicly, no. I don't think it would have that positive of an impact on my sales, if you know what I mean."

Jean hummed in agreement, and moved to lean against Marco's shoulder. Marco wrapped his arms tighter around Jean, burying his nose into Jean's highlight hair. They stayed like that for a few songs, reveling in one another's closeness. Marco hummed to the song they were dancing to, vibrations pleasantly being pressed into Jean's scalp.

Eventually, they came to a song with a beat didn't allow them to slowdance without it looking awkward, so they decided to take a diffident approach, pulling a couple inches apart. Jean got brave enough to try some actual moves, taking Marco's hands and spinning the both of them, before moving lower to the floor. Marco grinned, getting really into the routine Jean had randomly come up with.

Not far away, Jean spotted Eren, dancing with a different girl than before. Jean's amber eyes met Eren's caribbean ones, and Eren stopped, mid dance, to gawk at Jean and his dance partner. Jean just smirked over at Eren, cockily. Marco turned his head to see who was in Jean's line of sight.

"That's the guy you came here with, right?" Marco asked.

"Yeah," nodded Jean.

"Are you two…?" Marco alluded, sounding worried.

"What? No!" laughed Jean at the implication, "I'd never. He's kind of a little shit, actually."

Marco brightened up, and waved cheerily at Eren, who waved back, awkwardly. Once Marco had turned his full attention back to Jean, Eren shot Jean a thumbs up, grinning like a maniac. Jean rolled his eyes, moving in closer to Marco, as the song switched to a thicker, heavier beat. Marco grinned his mischievous grin, once again, and he lifted his right hand to caress Jean's jaw, and leaned down to press a kiss to Jean's neck. Jean felt his body immediately heat up at the contact. Marco paused, judging Jean's reaction, and Jean could feel Marco smile into his neck, as a small sound made its way past his lips. At Jean's go-ahead, Marco began trailing his tongue down Jean's neck, to just underneath the collar of his shirt. If he wasn't aroused before, he was going to be in a second, as Marco nipped and sucked away at the sensitive skin.

"Mmm, Marco," Jean began to pant, still moving to the music, albeit, with difficulty.

Marco pulled away, after nipping at Jean's jawline, with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Jean decided that it was now or never, in terms of having the chance to grind on Marco. He was aroused, but not to the point that it showed. Marco was clearly feeling adventurous, and so was he. And so, Jean took his shot.

Marco responded extremely positively to Jean trusting his hips against his, chuckling deeply and enticingly. It wasn't fair; every sound Marco was able to make turned Jean on. It was that damn perfect, sexy voice of his. Marco grabbed onto Jean's shirt, roughly, and pulled him until they were chest-to-chest. Jean let out another sound of arousal, as Marco pressed against him, already half-hard. At this point they'd be getting off publicly if they didn't find a change of scenery. Then, the music switched over to a familiar smooth, bouncy rhythm;

"_Keep looking at me like that_

_With those enticing eyes of yours_

_Keep moving in close like that_

_With that perfect body of yours"_

Marco groaned, "I _definitely_ can't do this to my own song."

"That's okay," laughed Jean, only slightly disappointed, "We can move back over to the bar?"

Marco shook his head, taking Jean by the hand and leading him off of the dancefloor. "I had other plans, actually. If you're up for it, that is"

Jean froze. Marco couldn't possibly intend to take him home, could he? There was no way that _Marco Bodt_ wanted to take _him_ home.

"Wh-what did you have in mind?" Jean tried and failed to sound sexy, putting one of his hands underneath one of Marco's arms.

Marco placed a hand on the small of Jean's back moving in, stopping about an inch from Jean's lips and waiting. Jean was confused for a moment, until he looked up into Marco's dark brown eyes, colored in patience and kindness. He was waiting for Jean to initiate any further physical contact. Jean felt a strangled pain arise in his chest at the gesture, and dove forward, closing the space between he and Marco, kissing the popstar at full force.

There was no waiting to explore each other's mouths, as tongues got involved, almost instantly, grasping and pushing at one another desperately. Jean let go of Marco's arm, in order to bury his fingers into the front of Marco's shirt, and moved his thigh so that it was lightly pressing in between Marco's legs. Marco let out a surprised squeak at Jean's forwardness, and then a growl, deepening their kiss, until they were forced to break apart and breathe.

"I don't think you understand just how badly I want you, Jean," Marco panted, pressing a wet, open mouth against Jean's temple.

Marco saying his name like that, huskily and out of breath, is what really did it for Jean, and he pulled Marco back down to him, pressing one searing kiss after another onto Marco's lips.

"Jean," Marco began, between kisses, "I need," kiss, "to call," another kiss "a cab." Jean nodded, wordlessly, kissing Marco's lips one last time, before letting go and taking a step back. The two made their way outside of the club, as Marco pulled out his cell. Jean pulled out his phone to shoot Eren a text, figuring that he shouldn't leave him stranded, without notice. Not that he figured Eren would care, much.

After the taxi cab had been called, Marco circled around to stand behind Jean, tucking his arms underneath Jean's, and placed his face in Jean's hair. Both of them were painfully aware of their arousals, and Jean commended Marco on his restrain to not start rubbing up against Jean, right there on the sidewalk.

"Are you sure you want this?" Marco murmured into Jean's hair after a minute had passed.

"I'm still trying to figure out if this is all actually happening," said Jean, good-humoredly.

Marco laughed, softly, "You're not the only one," Jean didn't know what to make of Marco, really. Sure, he was obviously into Jean. But enough that he was overwhelmed at the thought of taking him home? That was just insane. "But seriously, Jean. Do you want this? Do you want _me_?"

Jean turned around to wrap his arms around Marco neck, and pressed a kiss to his jawline, "Yes, Marco. I'm fucking crazy about you, if you hadn't noticed," he pressed his clothed hardness to Marco's to prove his point. Marco threw his head back a bit, and bit back a moan, unready for the contact.

Just then, the cab pulled up. Jean moved back, in order for Marco to take his hand, as the two got into the vehicle. Marco gave the driver his address, and they were off.

Jean almost pounced on his popstar companion, as the two were pressed up against one another in the fairly small back seat. He refrained, though, not wanting to spoil anything for the night Marco had planned ahead. Instead, he settled for a few chaste kisses, being pressed to his neck and jaw.

Once they had pulled up to their destination, Marco threw the driver this first bill he could find in his wallet, a 50 dollar bill, much to Jean's amusement, and pulled Jean through the gates and into the his house. Jean barely had time to take in just how large Marco's home was, before he was being led upstairs, to Marco's bedroom. He closed the door behind them, grinning excitedly, face flushed and body trembling from lack of contact.

"Finally, we're alone," Marco said, closing the distance between the two of them, kissing Jean roughly, and started to grope at Jean's groin, through his pants. Jean slumped against the door, Marco undoing him, almost completely, as he shivered and whimpered.

"How badly do you want me, Jean?" Marco hissed in his ear, brushing his teeth against Jean's earlobe.

"More than I've wanted anything in my entire life," Jean breathed, bucking his hips, involuntarily into Marco's hand.

Marco chuckled, heatedly, which caused Jean to let out a loud, pleasured sound.

"Mmm, that's right," Marco growled, "I want you loud, Jean. Can you do that?"

"Yes," whimpered Jean, as Marco ground his palm against his dick, "Christ, yes, Marco."

With that, Marco pulled away from between Jean's legs, and took his hands, leading him to Marco's massive, king-sized bed. Once the back of Marco's legs hit the edge, Jean took a hold of Marco's fedora, tossing it on the nearby dresser, and placed a hand on Marco's chest, pushing him down onto the mattress. Marco made a deep, rumbling sound, pulling Jean down by the collar of his shirt and slammed their lips together, ravishing his mouth until it hurt, sliding his covered hardness against Jean's, almost hysterically.

Pulling apart, at last, Marco reached for the buttons on Jean's shirt, almost tearing them off, in need. Jean let the purple garment slip off of his arms, and onto the floor, as Marco whipped off his jacket and t-shirt. His chest and arms were just as covered in freckles as his face, which only induced Jean to a more aroused state. Jean dove for Marco's neck, lapping at and kissing the exposed flesh, earning him a high whimper from the popstar.

Slowly, Jean began to work his way down Marco's frame, using his mouth to suck, nip, and taste every inch of skin he could find, eliciting several loud moans form Marco.

Deciding to be smooth, Jean took Marco's zipper between his teeth, once he had reached the erect spot between Marco's legs. However, Jean found it quite a bit more difficult than he had originally expected, as the small piece of metal didn't want to budge. Jean pulled harder, to no avail, and he felt a wave of embarrassment encompass him, when Marco lifted his head to see what the holdup was. He giggled, much to Jean's disdain, and sat up to unzip his own pants.

"It's okay, gorgeous, I got this," Marco laughed, kicking off his shoes and pants. Jean took the opportunity to do the same, face still flushed in aggravation. It didn't last long, though, as Marco pulled him into another kiss, this time far more gentle than the other kisses they had shared. Jean felt Marco slip his fingers into the waistband of his boxers; sliding them down to let Jean's full, dark and swollen erection emerge, with precum already beginning to leak from his head.

Forcefully, Marco grabbed the base of Jean's cock, pressing his thumb to the slit, and pumped him a couple times. Jean cried out, knees buckling at his touch. Marco was quick to swoop in, grabbing Jean by the waist, and throwing him onto the bed. He made his way on top of Jean, after wiggling his way out of his own undergarments. Kissing Jean, softly, Marco's hand made its way to the nightstand beside them, and rummaged through a drawer, until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small bottle of lube and a condom. Marco coated is fingers with the clear substance, before turning back to Jean, kissing him softly on the forehead.

"Have you done this before?"

Jean nodded. He wasn't overly experienced with sex, but he'd fucked and been fucked a handful of times. It had been at least a few months, though.

"Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes!" Jean groaned, impatiently, moving his hips forward, so that Marco had a better angle, "Fuck, yes, Marco. Take me, I'm yours."

That was all Marco had needed. He grabbed a pillow from beside Jean's head, to prop his backside up with, and, slowly, he slipped a finger inside. It wasn't hard to do the initial stretching, as it was certainly not Jean's first time. When Marco inserted the second finger, however, Jean groaned a bit, with discomfort, though that soon passed. The preparation really didn't take very long at all. The stretching wasn't really the reason why Marco was fingering him, though. And a few moments later, and about three inches in, Marco's middle finger hit something, and Jean jolted a bit. Marco smirked, lifting up Jean's leg, and kissing the inside of his thigh, as he repeatedly brushed his fingertip against Jean's prostate, stimulating it until firm, while Jean moaned, softly. After a time, Jean began to whine and shake needily, begging Marco to replace the fingers with something thicker.

Marco happily obliged, reaching for the condom on the nightstand, tearing open the packaging with his teeth. He rolled it on, and eased himself into Jean, inch by inch. After the initial burn, Jean found himself adoring the fullness of Marco being inside of him, and he gave him the go-ahead to begin thrusting, almost right away. Marco paced himself, both he and Jean moaning and panting heavily. Jean's cock was practically pulsing, and he found himself stroking his member, in time with Marco's thrusts, making him shudder and sob. A rush of extra pleasure coursed through him, and he threw back his head and moaned. Marco's cock had found his sweet spot, and was now hitting it on repeat.

"Fuck, Jean…" Marco gasped, as Jean upped the pace, rolling his hips forward.

"Marco," Jean responded, as the two rocked back and forth, against one another, in desperation and need. They went on like that for a couple more minutes, sobbing out each other's names, along with loving curses, until Jean could feel a pained tingling sensation in his lower abdomen, which shot straight through his member only a moment later. His entire body began to shiver, and he let out a low cry, as he came hard, all over his stomach. Seconds later, Marco did the same, pressing a hot, opened mouthed kiss to Jean's collarbone.

Marco collapsed beside Jean, who groaned as he withdrew. He pulled the condom off, carefully, before depositing it in the wastepaper basket, not far away. The muscles in Jean's legs were spasming, as he tried to catch his breath. Never before had sex been that fulfilling. He felt incredible everywhere, and yet fairly sore. Neither he, nor Marco moved much for the next ten minutes, as they both attempted to climb down from their sex-driven high.

After the two had cooled down a bit, Marco turned to Jean, scooting closer. Neither of them said a word, as Marco tucked his head into the crook of Jean's neck, rubbing calming circles onto his chest. Originally, Jean hadn't had any intention of staying the night with Marco. He knew what this was. As incredible as sex with the popstar had been, that was all it was: sex, a one-night stand. However, as Marco lay there, holding him close, pressing a few gentle kisses to his cheek, before closing his eyes to drift off to sleep, Jean couldn't find it within himself to leave. The man who had just ravished him with his Adonis-like body only moments prior was now just about the most adorable thing Jean had ever laid eyes on. Leaving his side when Marco so clearly didn't want him to would be an utter crime. And so, he let himself relax, letting sleep overtake his features, as his breathing and heartbeat fell in time with that of the man who slept beside him.


End file.
